oceans and stars
by suddenlyseekingsansa
Summary: Her future husband holds her hand between his, and he can hardly look at her any longer. It doesn't take long for a lion to sink its claws, it seems. Cersei/Ned AU, Ned is King.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Series of drabbles based on the "Robert dies in the rebellion and Ned takes his place on the throne" thing because I'm apparently unoriginal. Cersei's POV at all times, more of a character study than anything really.

[1/7]

Cersei is a few days shy of her twentieth nameday when she is betrothed for the second time, again to a man she has never met. The Honorable King Ned. Her throat burns when she thinks of him, the big brute of a Northman, and her hands quiver annoyingly the entire way east on the Goldroad. Casterly Rock was miles away now, the offerings of childhood comfort long gone. She must fend for herself now, for her and for Jaime.

Ned Stark disposed of Jaime as a member of the Kingsguard merely three days after his crowning, which in and of itself was an affair worthy of a common peasant. No pomp, no feast, no celebrations. Jaime's riddance was no different. Of course, Ned couldn't have a Kingslayer in the Kingsguard, what respectable man would? It infuriated Cersei when her brother returned to her, the newly reinstalled heir to Casterly Rock, stripped of his cloak. Ned promised him no harm and also his dead brother's betrothed.

"Why are you so angry?" Jaime teased, his hands digging at the curves of her waist and his cock stirring against her backside.

Cersei turned around and pressed her lips to the base of Jaime's throat. "Does it matter?"

He took her against the wall, sweat and desperation clinging to every inch of her skin, and when he leaves her, she cries herself to sleep for the first time in a very long time.

It's all she can think about on the way to King's Landing.


	2. Chapter 2

[2/7]

Cersei is presented at court as soon as she arrives at the Red Keep. So many eyes are focused on her every move, and she realizes she must get used to it now if she is to be Queen. Ned Stark sits on the throne, his gray eyes widening ever so slightly at her presence. She never lets go of his gaze, she stares sharply and with her brow furrowed. She wants him to feel every bit as examined as she feels.

Her shoes against the marbled floor is the only noise, the only one she can hear.

"Your Grace," she says, and she curtsies and bows her head, everything that would make her old Septas proud.

Ned sits forward on the throne, and nods his head. "My lady."

He is suddenly in front of her, placing his thin lips on the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room to feel how cold his hands were, how much they shook. "Your beauty is indescribable. Your brother told me many things about you."

_Before you sent him away from me so he can marry some Tully girl? _

"Only good things, I hope." She smiles at him. Her future husband holds her hand between his, and he can hardly look at her any longer. It doesn't take long for a lion to sink its claws, it seems.

Her handmaidens whisk her away to her new chambers. When she is alone, she writes to Jaime.

_I am the strong one._


	3. Chapter 3

[3/7]

Silk hangs loosely past her shoulders, the seam torn halfway, showing the delicate structure of her back. Cersei stands at the window, gazing at the remnants of her wedding feast down below. She drank entirely too much that night; her hands are sweaty and her cheeks flushed. Utterly unbecoming. Never would she ever admit to herself that she was _nervous_.

Ned clears his throat behind her. It's enough to break her out of her trance, but not enough to face him. "Your Grace," is all she murmurs.

"You shouldn't call me that any longer," he says, and Cersei grows impressed by his forwardness.

She turns to face him then. His tunic is unlaced at the front, halfway tucked into his trousers. Seeing the stern lines in his face, she understands that he was serious about it. All of it, she hopes.

"Of course. After all," she pads over to him, barefoot, and holds his face in her hands, "you own me now."

Ned looks troubled at her statement. Oh, the virtuous, dutiful Starks.

"My lady… I wouldn't… I wouldn't say that I-"

She moves a finger to his lips. "My name is Cersei."

He grabs her wrist then, gently, and didn't pull it away like she imagines. "Cersei… I am as much yours as you are mine."

She wants to laugh. His eyes, though stony gray, are soft and hold a flicker of sincerity. His other hand rests on the back of her neck, his fingers already threading through her golden hair. _Gods_, she would never get used to Northmen.

"Is that what you truly believe?" Her own hand trailed down his jaw, the stubble on his neck, traces the strong muscles of his chest…

"Aye," he whispers, and his lips are on hers, and suddenly Cersei is gasping and grasping at anything her hands can find. She tugs at his hair, tears the front of his tunic open. She wants him to know that she is angry, but she finds that every second she fails more and more miserably. She whines when he pushes her to the bed and presses his cock between her legs, purrs when he uses his teeth anywhere, and shudders when he finally enters her.

That night is the first night she comes without Jaime on her mind.


End file.
